Never Judge a Canadian for being ... well ... a Candian

It was toward the end of a very average evening shift.  The lovely greeter handed me the chit with notes about the table she just sat me.  It read, “Out-of-Town Hotel Employee.  Staying at Hotel.”  Great.  This means they automatically get 50% off their food, which also generally means the tip is going to be absolute crap. 

I walked over and said hello.  They were Canadian.  Double crap.  The first thought in my head upon learning this?  "Canadians might as well be Europeans as far as their tipping manner.  I'm screwed." Nonetheless, I treaded on forward.  

The couple, the wife slightly older and much more coy than her quirky counterpart, was on vacation from Calgary celebrating his 50^th birthday.  It was their first time in California.

At any rate, I started as I always do and asked about drinks.   He asked me if we had Absinthe.  “Nope.”  Gross.  Then he asked me for something I’d never heard of in my life.  I told him, “Nope,” again.  He then ordered a bottle of wine, which we were out of.  This is not starting off well.  

Surprisingly, the three strikes didn’t seem to bother the gregarious Canadian too much.  He just kept smiling and chose a different bottle of wine instead. 

Finally. Success.   

You could tell he knew his wine and clearly he was into some crazy liquor.  I had a hunch he was on the food and beverage side of the hotel industry.  He then started into a series of questions about our oyster selection.  It was at that very moment my hunch turned into absolute certainty. 

So naturally I wanted to confirm it.  I probed, “You're really into all of this.  You must work in a restaurant.   Culinary or front of the house?“  He replied, “I do what you do.”  I knew it.  Initially I had pictured him as more of a culinary type, not as a server.  But as the night progressed, it was clear he and I shared a passion of food, wine and people.  He loved to talk and make me laugh.  In fact, I could barely pull myself away from the table.  Lucky for me at this point I had no other tables so I was free to give him all of my attention. 

After my recent detective work, I was feeling much better about the hotel employee discount/tipping situation.  Yes he was still very Canadian eh, but he was also a server.  That’s practically a guarantee I’ll get a great tip out of this. 

He began telling me about the restaurant he worked at in Calgary.  He spoke highly of the ambiance, the food, the wine selection and even a guy who worked there he could picture me getting along with.  Then for the first time, the wife spoke up, “He’s a good guy … but he has issues.”  The Canadian piped up, “Well… okay yeah.  He’s a bit of a drinker, eh.”  She giggled then chimed back in, “Honey!  He has a problem!”  I decided to cut them both off before the playful arguing escalated, “Well, he sounds like a lot of fun anyway!”  They both cracked up.  I love making people laugh while I’m serving. 

At one point he was telling me about all of the outdoor activities they’d done so far during their vacation.  He said they were at a bike shop renting bikes earlier that day when the employee asked if they needed helmets.  He got all excited and continued, “When he asked me that I said ‘No thanks. My wife doesn’t need a helmet.  She hasn’t washed her hair in four days!’  The women near us looked at me in horror!  It was hilarious!”  I looked at his wife as he was explaining this and she just rolled her eyes, smiled and shook her head.  They were so cute together.  He, the outgoing Leo (like myself) who loved to crack jokes, and she, the demure one who loved to laugh right along with him.

After his birthday dessert was eaten, I walked back outside to ask if they wanted anything else.  He looked up at me and said, “The dessert was terrific, thanks.  We’re just enjoying the cockroach races at the moment.”  What?  He pointed to the patio.  There were three cockroaches scattering about the area.  Triple yuck.  But it was like it didn’t faze him at all.  The wife, on the other hand, was ready to leave at the start of “the races.”  He finally gave in, “Yah I guess its time for the bill, eh?”  He (thankfully) laughed it off.  I couldn’t believe it.  At the site of one roach, most guests would demand to speak to a manager and then demand something for free.

I don’t know if it was the fact that we were both servers (and both Leos), or just shared the same spirit about life, but the connection was real.  I felt like I was sitting next to them at the neighborhood bar taking the town gossip and sharing life’s lessons with them, not serving them.  It was a beautiful thing.  They were a couple of great people I will never forget. 

And if I am ever in Calgary, you bet your ass I will dine in his restaurant and sit in his section.  And perhaps I’ll even get an introduction to his fun friend.

And in case you're wondering, the Canadian tipped me like a fellow server would tip another; very well.   A great reminder to not judge a book by it's cover, nor anybody by their citizenship.  

You just never know.  ~ HK ~

The Boss Man... Lady

It was one of those extraordinarily perfect evenings as a server.  The weather was beautiful, the greeters were seating me in a perfect flow and my assistant and I were sharing laugh after laugh together.  And the real kicker?  Everyone I waited on was amazingly charismatic and friendly not only with me but also with the other guests at the tables surrounding them.  It was quite bizarre really.  It was the kind of night that can be very rare in our industry; therefore, definitely noteworthy.

I could write about several different tables full of amazing people I had on this one unexpected evening. But there was one table that stood out above all of the rest.

This gem of a table was a two-top consisting of a male and a female who clearly were not a couple.  The male was donning a wedding ring and the female, well… she was wearing a sports jacket and some type of slacks, complete with loafers and a rather short hair-do.  Let’s just say the female was more interested in checking me out.

They were one of the first tables of my night and one of the last ones to leave.  They ordered like it was their last royal meal on Planet Earth:  multiple courses of food, bottles of fine wine and they kept the cocktails flowing.  She kept saying to him, “Order what you want.  The boss is paying.”  Eventually I had to speak up, “I want to work for your boss!  They seem pretty awesome if they will pay for food and drinks.  I don't see that very often.”  The lady in the sports jacket spoke up, “Well that’s because I'm the boss.”  They both laughed.  Oh.  Gotcha.  Apparently you are The Boss.

I could tell The Boss liked me.  Like... really liked me.  Like if she could've had it her way she would have taken me home that night.  To set the record straight (pun very much intended) I am not a lesbian.  But being the fun and outgoing woman I am, I couldn’t help myself but to play along.

And what a playful ride it was.

The Boss couldn’t help herself but to grab my attention every time I walked by.  I know she wished she were actually grabbing something else besides my attention.  She stopped me with questions like, “So what other cocktails are popular?  Where are you from?  What do you do to stay in shape?”   Yes, the questions quickly went from business to personal.  And once it went personal, it really never went back to business (expect for discussions regarding what cocktail to order next or what ideal food course I recommended).  At some point she even asked if my assistant and I had something going on.  Perhaps just for the visual?  It was a fun and somewhat twisted flirtatious ride I will admit.    But the playfulness was innocent.  And whatever makes my day more interesting I’m always game. 

At one point in the evening I had to divert my attention to a different table because there was a fellow hotel employee who was there to celebrate his birthday.   He was a dramatic one who loved to talk and keep me at his table as well.  After a good five minutes at the employee’s table I finally got away.  When I walked by The Boss she joked, “Umm, who is he and why is he getting all of your attention.  We don’t like him.”  They both laughed and she continued, “No seriously.  We don’t ever want you to go back to that table ever again.”      

Wow.  I never knew I could be such a hot commodity as a server.  At that point, I had two tables competing for my attention.  Hash tag best night ever.... or perhaps has tag attention whore is more fitting?

After their dessert was finished, The Boss decided to order after-dinner drinks.  She told me, “I’m not ready to leave this site yet.”  Damn!  As our conversation got more personal, she asked me about my hobbies.  I told her I was a writer and had a blog.  Eventually I gave in and told her the blog was about the service industry and the people I wait on.  She immediately asked for the website and began reading. 

When it was finally time to drop the check, I felt like I'd practically lived through my first date with a lesbian.  She looked at me and said, “Well, I don't want you to write anything bad about me on your blog so I guess I'd better tip you well!”  I laughed and told her I'd never write anything bad about her.  She'd been nothing short of spectacular to wait on.  That being said, she left me a 30% tip on the credit card receipt and, in addition, $100 cash.  Epic.

Perhaps I should tell everyone I wait on I have a blog about the people I wait on.  This could seriously work in my favor.

She gave me a hug goodbye.  I could honestly say I was sad to see her go.  When I walked back into the side station my assistant said she faked grabbing my booty during the hug, then just put her hand on my back like a gentleman… I mean like a lady. 

Its nights like this one that I thoroughly love my job.   Because it’s all about the people we meet as servers.  If every shift could be as terrific and memorable as this one, this would be the best job in the world (and not to mention I’d have a lot more stories to write about). 

So thank you Boss.  Thank you for being you and for providing my readers and myself a great story. 

And now you'll officially be remembered in cyberspace as well.   ~ HK ~

The Common Server Misconception

What type of person do you think of when you visualize a server?  Perhaps friendly, outgoing and a people person.  Sure.  But what else?  A student?  A college drop out?  A partier?  

The idea of what people think about servers - as human beings - outside of waiting tables continues to fascinate me.   

There’s this couple.  They’ve been regulars at our restaurant for years.  They are a very friendly, attractive and affluent couple who just celebrated their 25-year Anniversary at our restaurant a few weeks ago.   I’ve been waiting on them for over three years. 

Yesterday, on a rather slow Wednesday, we actually got into a deeper conversation than the go-to “How are you?” banter.  They were sitting at the bar.  I wasn’t even their server.  Perhaps that’s why I felt like I could open up more than usual.  I walked over and said hello.  Immediately, our conversation dived into dating and relationships (probably because another server was just talking to them about his upcoming wedding blah blah blah).  I told them my parents had just celebrated their 43^rd Anniversary (I even showed them a photo of my parents at their recent celebration).  They asked if I had a boyfriend.  Not even close... (hence the slight wedding resentment).  I told them I was very single and gave them some insight into the dating world in 2014.  I could tell at this point they thought I was younger and they clearly had no clue I’d been married years ago.  In their defense, how could they know? 

When I broke the news I’d been married they were shocked.  I proceeded to tell them I used to co-own two restaurants in South America with my ex-husband.   The wife looked at me like I just told her I was really a man.   Her and her husband couldn’t believe it and she continued, “You sound like you’re 50 years old!  But you look like you’re twenty-six!”  She was puzzled to say the least.  I told them how old I was and the shock waves continued.  

Partially, I have my parent’s amazing genes to thank for my younger appearance (love you Mom and Dad!).  But the main reason they felt that way is because they only know me as a server.  I’m pretty sure the uniforms throw people off too. 

General server profile:  twenty-something, recent college grad, (or still attending school on the four-to-five {or eight} year college plan) or the ever-present artist.  It’s like aside from potentially going to school, we’re thought of as “just servers.”  As if serving defines who we are.  We can’t possibly have done anything interesting outside of waiting tables… Can we?   

And it’s not anyone’s fault.  It’s a societal thing. 

As much as I don’t like the fact that the general public views us as “just servers,” I also revel in the idea that I have the ability to blow people’s minds about my life and my past and that I am a multi-dimensional human being.  If people saw servers differently, I feel like we’d get a lot more respect.  (And in no way, shape or form am I implying this couple has ever had a lack of respect for servers).  I am saying this in a very general sense. This couple just brought this topic to the forefront of my thoughts yesterday.  I’d been waiting on them for over three years and they had a completely different perspective on who I am, solely for the reason that they only knew me as “a server.”  

To all of my readers and fellow diners out there, I have a proposition.  Next time you go out to eat, ask your server what they do outside of waiting tables.  I bet you’ll find it fascinating what it is they do or have done in their past or what it is they’re working on for their future. 

And of course, if they tell you they’re on the eight-year college plan, you can have yourself a little chuckle. 

Your welcome.  ~ HK ~